Parallel Lines
by 00AwkwardPenguin00
Summary: Adenine Potter, an American witch, is living the dream: studying Potions at Hogwarts! But between the threat of Sirius Black, Dementors, and a Potions Master who can't see past her last name, she's got a lot on her plate. Added to that is the strange connection she has with the Boy Who Lived... will two parallel lines finally intersect? OC, no major pairings, slow-building.


Parallel Lines  
A Harry Potter Fanfic  
By 00AwkwardPenguin00  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

Note: Addy Potter, her history, and her family, are my own creation.

* * *

Adenine "Addy" Potter bounced impatiently in place as she waited in the line her International Portkey departure slot. The Portkey point in Washington, DC's Union Station was infuriatingly busy, as families with kids took off for the last two weeks before school began. She fingered the ticket in the pocket of her zip-up hoodie, grinning as she imagined the huge castle in Scotland she was bound for.

Behind her, her father David took her shrunken trunk out of his pocket and handed it to her.

"Got everything?" He asked, hazel eyes twinkling.

"Now I do," Addy replied, stuffing her miniaturized trunk into her pocket along with her ticket. "Jeez, what's taking so long? We've been waiting here for ages!"

Dave chuckled. "Patience, kiddo," he said. "What's the hurry? You wanna get away from us that bad?"

"Of course I do, you and Mats are so terribly boring," Addy deadpanned. She grinned at the affronted expression on her father's face. "Kidding, Dad! You know I love you both, but this is Hogwarts! SIM was great, but I've been dreaming about going to Hogwarts all my life!"

"I know, Snidget," Dave said, smiling. "You've been scheming ways to run away to England since you were three. Now, it looks like you're up next, so I want you to promise me you'll firecall as soon as you can, got it? I'm gonna be a nervous wreck until you do."

"Gotcha, Dad," Addy promised.

"One last thing, Adds," Dave said, pulling out a small velvet covered box. "I got this for you as a going away present."

Intrigued, Addy took the case and opened it. Inside was a metal American flag dog tag necklace.

"Oh Dad," Addy whispered. "It's gorgeous." She took the necklace out of the case and slipped it on, the long chain going over her head easily."

"Don't let any of those stuck up Brits over there give you a hard time," Dave said quietly. "You're every bit as smart and capable as them, if not more so. Show 'em how we do things on this side of the pond, sweetheart."

Addy threw her arms around her father and squeezed tight. "Thanks Dad," she whispered.

"Nine o'clock Portkey to King's Cross Station, London!" Called the Portkey Station manager. "Calling all travelers for the nine o'clock to London!"

"That's me," Addy said, grinning broadly. "I'll owl you when I get to school."

"Okay, Snidget," Dave replied. "Have a safe trip, and be careful in London."

"Will do!" Addy called over her shoulder as she fought her way through the crowd to the small group gathered around her Portkey.

"Ticket?" The attendant asked. Addy fished the small scrap of parchment out of her pocket and handed it to him.

"Okay, that looks like the last of 'em," the attendant muttered. "Grab on, folks, and three, two, one!"

A jerk behind her navel, and Addy was soaring and spinning wildly through the air for what felt like ages until there was suddenly hard ground beneath her feet and the world was still once more.

"Two o'clock from Union Station, Washington, DC?" Asked a crisp sounding British voice.

"That's us," the American attendant said.

"Welcome to London," the British attendant announced, nodding at Addy and her fellow travelers. "Passports please."

Addy took out her passport and her student visa, and handed them to the British attendant, who gave them a cursory glance before handing them back to her.

"You do know that as you are seventeen years old, you are not held under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery?" The man asked, sounding incredibly bored. Addy suspected that he gave that line or some variation of it to every school age witch and wizard he met.

"Yes, sir, I know," she replied simply.

"Very well," he said. "Enjoy your stay."

"Thanks," Addy nodded to the man, checked her pockets to make sure she had everything, then followed the steady trickle of traffic from various Portkey arrival points scattered around the single platform to what appeared to be a blank wall. However, as Addy was a witch and had grown up around magic all of her life, she knew that this was probably no ordinary wall, and was proven correct when she saw a pair of very tanned young witches walk straight through it.

After a quick glance around to make sure that she hadn't missed the person who was supposed to pick her up from the station, she took a deep breath and ran through the wall, nearly running into the opposite one on the other side. She was now on another platform, between tracks Nine and Ten, according to a sign above her head, and the increased volume of people around her seemed to indicate that she had left the magical area of the station.  
She spotted a tall, thin, redheaded man dressed in a rather hilarious mixture of Muggle clothes, holding a large sheet of parchment that read "ADENINE POTTER". Figuring that this was her ride to wherever she was staying for the next week, Addy headed on over.

"Hey, are you from Hogwarts?" She asked the man quietly. "I'm Adenine Potter."

"Indeed I am," the man said, grinning at her. "Arthur Weasley, Professor Dumbledore asked me to ensure you got to your lodgings safely. A pleasure to meet you, Adenine."

"Call me Addy," she said, returning the grin as she shook Mr. Weasley's hand.

"Very well then, Addy," Mr. Weasley said. "Got all of your things?"

"Yep," Addy replied.

"Very good, then off we go." Mr. Weasley offered her his arm, which she took. "Now, I know that it's your first time in London, and you'd probably like to see all of the sights, but it's best if we just go straight to the Leaky Cauldron at the moment and get you settled in. You'll have the next week to do as much sightseeing as you want."

"That's fine," Addy said. "You're probably taking time out of your work to do this for me, so it'd be pretty rude of me to insist on a tour."

Mr. Weasley just grinned, and they Disapparated from the station with a small pop, appearing in front of a rather run down old inn squashed between a bookstore and a record store. The Muggles passing by on the street seemed to pay no mind to either the rather incongruous building or the witch and wizard that had just appeared in their midst.

"Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron, entrance to Diagon Alley," Mr. Weasley said. "Hogwarts is paying for your room and board here, so you don't have to worry about settling the bill. I'll show you how to get into Diagon Alley, and then Tom will show you to your room. Come along!"

Addy followed the ginger wizard into the rather dark and gloomy inn, and again out into a small back courtyard.

"Now, to enter Diagon Alley, take out your wand, and tap the third brick from the left above this rubbish bin here," Mr. Weasley explained, doing so as he spoke. A small hole appeared in the brick, and then rapidly expanded into an archway leading out into a rather archaic cobblestoned street. After a few moments, the passageway closed up again, and Mr. Weasley led Addy back into the pub, where a stooped, wizened, and toothless man wearing an apron over his robes was waiting.

"Addy, this is Tom, the landlord," Mr. Weasley said. "If you need anything between now and September first, just ask him."

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Potter," Tom said, bowing slightly. "I'll show you up to your room now."

"And I'm afraid I'll have to take my leave of you," Mr. Weasley said. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Addy, and I'll see you again next Tuesday."

"See you then, Mr. Weasley, and thanks for everything," Addy said, shaking Mr. Weasley's hand.

Mr. Weasley popped away, and Addy followed Tom up a very nice looking dark wood staircase to a long hallway lined with doors.

"You'll be in Number 8, Miss Potter," he said, unlocking one of the doors. "Washrooms are at the end of the hall, ladies on the right, gents on the left. Kitchen opens at six am and closes at eleven pm every day. Do you have any questions, Miss Potter?"

"No, thanks, Tom, I'm good," Addy said, taking the key he handed her.

"If you need anything, Miss Potter, you'll know where to find me," the bartender said, bowing a little bit, and then shuffling back downstairs.

Addy entered the room and shut the door, leaning back against it. She was finally here! Five years of planning and studying and preparation, and she was finally in England, only days away from arriving at the fabled castle.

She took her trunk out of her pocket, flicked her wrist to release her wand from its wrist holster, and reversed the shrinking spell. She immediately took out a pair of picture frames from a secret pocket and placed them on the nightstand.

"I'm here, Mom," she whispered, gently brushing the smiling face of the blue eyed, auburn haired woman. "Just like I said I would be." That picture didn't move, unlike the other one, of her father and step-mother, who were laughing as they poured cherry blossoms on top of each other's heads. Mathilda's eyes were silvery gray and dancing, and her hair, which at that moment was close cropped and snowy white, was whipping around her face, both signs that she was blissfully happy. Addy loved her Metamorphmagus step-mom, who was loads of fun and had been wonderfully understanding and kind to her as the then twelve year old had adjusted from having one parent to suddenly having two.

Addy smiled at the two pictures and turned back to her trunk, fishing her money bag out of the same pocket the pictures had come from. She wanted to get to Gringotts before it closed, so that she could exchange her American dollars for British pounds. She didn't have to worry about the wizarding money, thankfully, since wizards worldwide used Galleons.

She closed and locked her trunk, retied her long, wild black hair back, and headed out, locking her room back up. Heading down to the bar room, she found Tom behind the bar, cleaning glasses.

"Excuse me, Tom, but is there a Floo connection I can use?" She asked. "I need to firecall my dad and let him know I'm settled."

"You can use the big fireplace there, Miss," he said, nodding to the huge stone hearth at the other end of the room.

"Great, thanks!" Addy headed over to the huge fireplace, and found a large pitcher of Floo powder sitting on the hearth. Taking out her wand, she muttered a quick Incendio, and threw a handful of powder in.

"David Potter, Crup Run, Front Royal, Virginia, United States!" She called out. Several moments later, Dave's head appeared in the emerald flames, looking somewhat surprised.

"Huh, I didn't expect you to call so soon," he said. "Is London leveled to the ground yet?"

"Ha, ha, very funny," Addy drawled, rolling her eyes. "The guy who picked me up was pretty insistent that we don't dawdle. He seemed kind of distracted."

"Oh," Dave said. "So what're your plans for the rest of the day? What time is it over there?"

"It's just about two thirty here," Addy replied. "After I'm done with you, I'm gonna go to Gringotts and get my money exchanged before I get my shopping list. Then I figured I'd explore for a while until dinnertime, and maybe a bit afterward. What's happening back home? Have you talked to Mats?"

"Well, I took the entire day off, thinking I'd be sitting by the fireplace waiting for your call," Dave replied, smirking. "I haven't heard from Mats yet, but I probably will soon. Since it's a weekday, she's probably not getting a lot of business, so she's probably bored out of her skull. She'll send one of her owls over here to bug me eventually."

Addy laughed, and the two chatted for a bit before signing off. Extinguishing the flames with a silent Evanesco, she headed out into the back courtyard, tapped the third brick from the left above the trash can, and strode down the Alley to Gringotts.

After checking on the vault from which she was to withdraw her pocket money (courtesy of a lovely stipend provided as part of the exchange program she was on), she exchanged her American Muggle dollars for British pounds and headed back outside.

Being a weekday mid-afternoon, Diagon Alley wasn't very crowded at all, and Addy took her time walking up one side of the street and down the other, snapping pictures the whole time with the camera her grandfather had given her as a going away present. She admired the Firebolt racing broom on display in Quality Quidditch Supplies, said hello to every owl in Eeylops Owl Emporium and every animal in the Magical Managerie, and stocked up on Dungbombs at Gambol and Japes (setting several aside as a stockpile for when she went home). She spent a ridiculous amount of time in Flourish and Blotts, reading through a copy of Hogwarts, A History despite the fact that she'd practically memorized it years before.

It took her stomach growling obnoxiously for her to look up from her book and realize that it was nearly six o'clock, which meant it was past lunchtime in America. She reshelved the book, brushed the paper dust off of her clothes, and headed back to the Cauldron to see what she could get for dinner.

Twenty minutes later she was seated at a back table with a bowl of pea soup, a ham sandwich, and a tall glass of pumpkin juice. She had just beaten the dinner rush, it looked like, since witches and wizards were pouring in from the entrance to the Alley, all loaded down with a day's shopping.

A head of wild black hair caught her eye, and Addy glanced up from her sandwich to spot her dad weaving through the crowd to a tiny deserted table in the corner. She nearly dropped her sandwich in shock, and strained her eyes to look closer. As the clone passed a small group of wizards sitting down to their supper, she registered how short he was and realized that it wasn't her father, but a kid who could've passed for her father as a teenager, if he'd been a lot taller and a bit more filled out. Addy frowned as she registered that last thought. The kid (he couldn't've been more than twelve or thirteen, if that) was a little too skinny, he looked like he'd disappear if he turned sideways.

She watched the kid reach his table and sit down, placing a bulging, gently loved school bag at his sneaker clad feet. He cracked his knuckles and then clasped his hands firmly on top of the table. A paler, thinner, pre-teen version of her father's face scanned the patrons of the dining room with shockingly brilliant green eyes, practically hidden behind a pair of large, round, and extremely well loved eyeglasses. He was practically swimming in his shorts and t-shirt, which were obviously handed down from someone else. Tom hurried over to him, bowing deeply before taking out the small wad of parchment he used to write down food orders. They spoke for a moment, and then Tom shuffled away, and the boy dug into his bag and pulled out a book. He grimaced at it, but dutifully opened it up to a place marked by what Addy recognized was a Self-Inking quill, in neon green. The boy began reading, laying the book flat on the table and tracing the page with his finger until he found a passage to underline with the quill.

Addy put her sandwich down, stacked her soup bowl on top, and grabbed her glass. With sandwich and soup in one hand and pumpkin juice in the other, she carefully navigated the now very crowded dining room until she was standing in front of the boy's table.

"Excuse me, you mind if I sit here?" Addy asked. The boy jumped, and his head jerked up until his wide green eyes met Addy's hazel.

"Er, sure, go ahead," he stammered, blinking rapidly behind his glasses. Addy smirked and put her plate and glass down on the table before sitting opposite the boy. She glanced at his book, reading the text upside down.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts?" She asked. "You go to Hogwarts?"  
The boy nodded, peering at her shyly through pitch black bangs. "I'm going into my third year," he said. "What about you? You don't sound like you're from Great Britain, never mind England."

Addy smiled. "You're right, I'm not," she said. "Exchange student, from America. I'm Addy, by the way, Addy Potter."

"Potter?" Addy could practically see the boy's ears prick up, as he studied her thoughtfully. "I'm a Potter, too. Harry Potter."

"The boy who lived," Addy said, watching with some amusement as Harry's lip curled in distaste.

"Don't tell me that I'm famous in America too," Harry scowled.

"Okay, I won't," Addy smirked. "Don't worry, the only reason you're famous in America is because you survived the Killing Curse. Voldemort never got as much of a foothold in the States as he did here, so there wasn't really anything for you to save American wizardry from."

"That's a relief," Harry sighed, smiling wryly. "As much as being famous here has its perks, I'd much rather be just Harry."

"Well, Just Harry, I think your dinner's here," Addy said, grinning as Tom appeared with a plate of some sort of meat pie and a pitcher of pumpkin juice with a frosted glass on top. Harry slammed his book shut happily and dropped it onto the floor next to his bag, allowing Tom to place his plate in front of him. The barkeeper set the glass down and poured the pumpkin juice, topping off Addy's glass as well.

"Thanks Tom," Harry said, smiling widely at the barkeeper.

"My pleasure, Mr. Potter, my pleasure," Tom said, bowing deeply. He scuttled away, and Harry practically dived into his pie, moaning in delight.

"Okay, I need to ask," Addy said around a spoonful of soup. "What is that?"

"Shepherd's Pie," Harry said, swallowing quickly. "Ground lamb and beef mixed with gravy, corn, and peas, topped with mashed potatoes and baked until the top is just slightly browned. I'd eat this every single day for the rest of my life if I could."

"I feel that way about pizza," Addy said.

They chatted about their favorite foods for a while as Harry demolished his pie. Addy wasn't surprised that the boy's list was a mile long- he looked like he didn't get nearly enough food on a daily basis. Their talk shifted to Hogwarts, and Addy picked Harry's brain about the school and the different houses and the classes he was in. He explained about the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and how there was a different teacher every year because the position was said to be cursed.

"Were any of them any good?" Addy asked.

"Well, ignoring the stuttering and the fact that he was playing host to a fragment of Voldemort's soul, Quirrell wasn't bad," Harry replied. "Lockhart turned out to be a complete nutter and a cowardly fraud. I'm almost afraid to find out who it'll be this year."

Addy was mildly surprised to learn that Harry had no idea that other schools besides Hogwarts existed, and happily regaled him with tales of her younger years at the Salem Institute of Magic.

Their discussion drifted towards families over dessert, with Addy stealing a bite of Harry's treacle tart (she could feel her teeth rotting as she chewed) as he expounded on the virtues of his friend Ron's family. He hung on her every word as she described her father and Mats, but was oddly closed-mouthed about his own family. Addy didn't push him, seeing the anger and pain in his eyes as he simply said he lived with his Muggle aunt, uncle, and cousin.

It was almost ten o'clock when Harry suddenly yawned and stretched, excusing himself for bed. Despite not being at all tired, Addy walked the younger kid up to his room, which was surprisingly across the hall from hers. They said goodnight, and Addy went to bed intrigued and even more excited for Hogwarts.

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Hey guys! Yes, I know, I should be working on _Line in the Sand_, but considering how nuts my life has been the last year and a half or so, I figured it was time to start fresh. This is something I've been working on for a long time, ever since I joined Pottermore and started thinking of how cool it would be to actually be able to really go to Hogwarts. So yes, I confess this is a bit of a self-insertion, but honestly, can you blame me? Anyway, if you couldn't already tell, this takes place during and after the events of The Prisoner of Azkaban, and is a bit slow building, but I'll try not to spend too much time in the book timespan. Also, I solemnly swear to do everything in my power to keep Addy from becoming a Mary-Sue- and please, please, please for the love of G-d, please tell me if you think she's getting to that point._

_Alright, well, toodles!_


End file.
